


The Fruit of Knowledge

by tersa (alix)



Series: Dragon Age:Present Imperfect [5]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Food Porn, Plot What Plot, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 01:25:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alix/pseuds/tersa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one-sided argument, with an apple involved in the making up part.</p><p>Really, it's a "plot? who needs plot?" excuse to write happy fun sexual tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fruit of Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haycorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haycorn/gifts).



> Takes place well after the end of "Dragon Age 2". Knowledge of the two set-up fics in this series, "Past Present Imperfect" and "Past Present Imperfect, Epilogue v2" is highly recommended, although possibly not necessary.
> 
> Written as part of my 2011 Ficmas project, with a special shout out to arysani@LJ and [Cenred](http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/591000/591602_1291497292579_full.jpg) (Tom Ellis) in S3 "The Adventures of Merlin" for [reminding me so strongly of Nathaniel](http://static.tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pub/images/Cenred-merlin-on-bbc-16891208-1600-12001211_2858.jpg) for the inspiration.

Usually, Nathaniel’s unflappable demeanor was one of the things Marian liked about him. She knew herself to be headstrong and reckless, and knowing he wouldn’t take her occasional fits of temper personally is part of what kept their relationship intact. Besides the fact that the sex was fantastic.

But as he leaned against his desk and calmly continued eating thin slivers off an apple while she stood there glaring at him, she wished she could flap him just a _little_. She sometimes wondered if he remained so impassive _just_ to infuriate her.

“You’re going down to the Ancient Thaig again,” Marian exploded. “I’m the only Warden who’s been there before. And remember what happened the last time you tried to go down there; I had to save you?”

“I remember what happened _afterwards_ ,” he said conversationally, which brought her up short with a jolt from bittersweet memories even while he went on, shaving a slice from the apple with the blade of his dagger. “And you’re wrong, you’re not the only Grey Warden who’s been there. Bethany’s going, and you can’t very well keep up the illusion of your disappearance if she were to find out you’re alive.”

Trying to regain her emotional balance, she gave a shaky retort.“I _led_ most of Bartrand’s expedition down there. You could use my sword.”

“I’ve heard Bethany can plant a fireball on the top of an ogre’s head at fifty paces. Can your sword do that?” he asked, eating another bit of the fruit.

In exasperation, Marian closed the distance, slapping her palms on the desk to either side of him. “Come on, Howe. You _need_ me.”

Undisturbed by her proximity, he calmly took another cut of the apple. He answered, “No,” then brought the dagger up and offered her the piece, meeting her gaze evenly.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure how to interpret it. The knife so close to her face, it might be deemed a threat…except the blade faced away from her, not towards, and as she wavered in indecision, he waited, chewing placidly. Recognizing the finality in his denial, she capitulated with a growl and straightened to snatch the apple off the blunt edge, accepting what might be considered a peace offering with ill-grace. She was still finishing off the piece when, with pointed deliberation, he hewed another slice off and brought it up between them.

Once meant little. Twice…there was purpose to it, and despite his bland expression, she suspected he was poking fun at her bad humor. She could get even further irked—or she could allow him to tease her out of it. A smirk suddenly pulled up one corner of her mouth, as she considered a way to exact a mild revenge. His eyebrows lifted a fraction, surprise, lowering into suspicion as she leaned forward to delicately take the apple directly from the knife between her bared teeth. Crunching it down, she shot him a look colored by defiance.

The stoic façade cracked, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth and crinkling the corners of his eyes. Peeling off another slice which he fed to himself, eyes locked with hers over the dagger, he cut another sliver off to again offer to her. She hesitated, eyeing it thoughtfully before moving in to accept it, only to have him pull it back and pop into his own mouth. The smile blossomed into a smug grin that faltered when she planted her hands across his thighs and leaned her weight into it.

Quirking her eyebrows mischievously, she paused, waiting to see what he would do. His amber eyes locked with hers. She heard the scrape of the knife parting the flesh of the apple as he blindly cut it, a skill that briefly impressed her which she let show in her expression. A subtle shift in his own acknowledged it; the blade rose with the red-rimmed white crescent into her peripheral vision, brought to her lips in slowed motion. With equal languor, she slid it off but held it there, tantalizing him with the silent invitation. A moment of consideration, and he shifted for the first time to close the gap towards her—to which she snapped the apple into her mouth with an insouciant grin.

He grimaced, a disgruntled noise rumbling from his chest, and she upped the ante by moving her hands upwards to settle in the creases of his hips, fingers splaying across the outer muscle and thumbs resting suggestively close to where they met. His eyes narrowed as he sucked in a sharp breath, his only noticeable reaction, as there was none in the casual nonchalance with which he pared another bit of the fruit from the dwindling core, bringing it up for himself and mimicking her, smiling around the proffered temptation. She mirrored the smile, bending forward to sink her teeth into the apple and being drawn into brushing against his mouth in the beginnings of a kiss that deepened as the flesh fragmented under the pressure and her tongue flickered out, following them.

Time passed, uncountable seconds lost in the surging of rising arousal, until he broke away and dragged in a deep breath, gaze dropping to a glance at her swollen lips then back to her eyes. Tension thrummed through the taut fabric against her thumbs, betraying him, and she felt an answering tingle across her breasts and between her thighs. Just when it was verging on unbearable, he broke into a grin. “You’re still not going.”


End file.
